After finding another level 5 zombie and killing it, this time using a tree to play a little ring-around-the-rosy, I finally headed back to town.
That brought me to 30/40 XP. Once I did the quest tomorrow, I would hit level four.
Sleeping was easier that night, and waking up was easier still.
I would like to think that is something special about humans. The ability to move forward and adapt so quickly to new situations. Of course, I cannot really compare us to anything except animals, and they would probably do the same in the end.
Still, I am half expecting the typical fantasy races to show up eventually, and not just as NPCs.
Going downstairs and seeing everyone already talking was a welcome sight.
I hate to admit it, but now that I have a way forward, a way to get stronger, things feel easier.
"How are you faring this morning, Tero?" Sheral asks.
"Just fine, Sheral. Thanks."
I grab a bowl and fill it with the stew the cooking group had made.
"There's someone doing blacksmithing now," she says, taking a sip from a mug of beer. "So we're hoping that if we look around, we might be able to find some iron nodes. That's what the blacksmith was talking about."
"Sounds good. I'm going to head out and get some XP," I say, already halfway to the door.
"Don't be a stranger, Tero. Come on!" Jake practically shouts across the room.
"Sorry, just making sure I'm the best!" I say, flexing nonexistent muscles as I walk out the door and immediately cringing at myself.
The quest takes barely five minutes this time.
I finish it before anyone else even makes it out of town.
Honestly, I think almost any stat would make it easy. Strength lets you cut them down faster. Body lets you endure and maneuver. Agility, Dexterity, and Intelligence all help with landing precise hits. Even Willpower probably helps with things like setting traps or staying calm.
It is a very fair system.
Which still bothers me more than it should.
But that is something to think about later.
Turning in the quest, I watch my level increase and the two stat points appear.
Naturally, they go straight into Intelligence.
Then a new message appears.
[20 Intelligence Allocated: Magic Unlocked]
A new tab appears on my interface.
[Stats] [Magic] [Inventory] [Help]
Mana: 100/100
Spells:
The help icon lights up again, this time opening a section on magic.
In short, magic is the freeform use of mana, detached from tools like wands or staves. The limits are your Intelligence and imagination. Every spell requires a surprising amount of mental effort, like juggling several complicated thoughts at the same time.
The system even explains some basic theory. Fire, water, wind, and earth can be combined in different ways to produce effects. You can launch spells outward, shape them into barriers, or surround yourself with defensive constructs.
Beyond that, the explanation becomes vague.
Apparently magic can do almost anything, as long as you have the mana and the mental capacity to hold the spell together.
Before I can think about it too long, the guard suddenly shouts.
"Powerful adventurer! Please free this land of the undead curse by killing the necromancer at the top of the hill to the east!"
I jump slightly. I had completely forgotten he was standing there.
A quest window appears.
[Accept Quest?]
[Keep the Village Safe: Kill Level 10 Necromancer]
[Reward: Groups, Raid Groups, Chat Access, Friending, Leaving the Tutorial Area]
[Yes] [No]
There is no way I am rejecting that.
But it is clearly not meant for someone my level.
It has to be a group quest. Either that, or the necromancer does not respawn and everyone gets credit for the kill. Hard to say.
What I do know is that I need to work harder.
Now that I have mana and the ability to cast spells, the things I spent most of my life dreaming about are literally within reach.
So I decide to test them.
After walking far enough away from town that no one can see me, I point my hand toward a nearby tree.
To cast a spell, I have to imagine shapes inside shapes while forcing my mana to follow the structure. The symbols on the outer ring determine the properties of the magic.
For the outer symbol, I write the concept of force.
In the center, I write the symbol for self, specifically focused on the hand.
For nearly twenty seconds I struggle to force the mana into the shape I am imagining. The circle warps and distorts before finally stabilizing.
My fist begins glowing with white mana.
Without hesitating, I punch the tree.
The impact leaves a deep dent in the bark, far deeper than any normal human punch could manage.
My first spell.
I decide to call it Mana Fist.
It costs ninety-five mana.
Even if I refine the casting later, I doubt it will ever cost less than fifty.
Magic is appropriately difficult.
Still, that one spell alone would probably kill a level five zombie.
The bigger problem is that there is no way I could cast it in a real fight. Not only does it take too long, the system does not even recognize it as a proper spell yet. My spell list remains empty.
For now, the only thing I can do is go back inside, eat until my mana regenerates, and try again.
And that is exactly what I do.
For the next few days, that becomes my routine.
At first I tried to keep the magic practice to myself. Sneaking off, experimenting, then returning to the inn like nothing happened.
But it turned out to be harder to stay distant than I expected.
Everyone else had started settling into routines too. The cooks argued over seasoning like they were working a real kitchen shift again. The blacksmithing group spent most of their time debating tools and complaining about how long it took to gather materials.
Jake told the same stories over and over, each time somehow louder than the last.
Sheral made it her personal mission to check whether people had eaten or slept.
By the third day, Sheral started dragging me into conversations whether I wanted to join them or not. Jake would ask my opinion on things like stat meaning, and the hunter occasionally threw in quiet comments that made everyone laugh.
Before I really noticed it happening, eating together in the mornings became normal.
So did hunting together.
The more we fought side by side, the more natural it felt to trust each other.
At some point, without any big moment marking it, the group stopped feeling like a bunch of strangers trying to survive the same disaster.
It started feeling like my group.
Three days later we start hunting level fives together.
Jake and the hunter are both level three. Sheral has reached level four.
I hit level five and, naturally, put the new stat points into Intelligence.
The difference between when we first arrived and now is obvious. We rarely miss attacks anymore. Sheral invested her points into Body, Strength, and Dexterity, and now she handles weapons better than I do.
Which she never lets me forget.
By the end of the first week, the four of us all receive the final quest.
It is daunting, and we all know it.
So the day we get it, we decide to scout the hill first.
[Level 8 Zombie]
[Level 7 Zombie]
[Level 8 Ghoul]
Most of the monsters are too close together to fight one at a time. We will almost certainly have to handle several at once.
Jake ends up taking on the role of tank.
With the help of the blacksmithing group, he gets a shield and a set of chainmail armor. The plan is simple: make sure the zombies focus on him while the rest of us do damage.
After that, the next few days become nothing but leveling.
The endless grind.
Except this time it is real.
In most games, twenty minutes of grinding might represent an entire in-game day. Here, everything takes real time. Every fight, every rest, every step through the forest.
It is slower.
More exhausting.
More real.
Eventually we settled on a goal.
Once everyone in the group reaches level seven, we attempt to fight the necromancer.
Anyone else who reaches level five or higher will help hold back the surrounding undead or something. It will have to be a group effort.